


Into Eden

by GracieBirdie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Season/Series 01, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Cannibalism, Creature Stiles Stilinski, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Murder Husbands, to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracieBirdie/pseuds/GracieBirdie
Summary: Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.





	Into Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the oh so lovely and wonderful [lacrossepapi](https://lacrossepapi.tumblr.com/) who's art inspired this and then put up with me even after I went off the rails in the first paragraph...
> 
> unfortunately necessary disclaimer: there are going to be spelling/grammatical errors in this. I know this, no I'm not going to fix it now that I've already posted. No I don't want a beta. Anyone who still decides to point these things out to me will get a mean and/or bitchy response because I warned you. Don't like it don't read it.

***

Peter knew he wasn't thinking straight. He hadn't been thinking straight for years. What had happened with Laura had really brought that point home for him.

He didn't regret getting the alpha power. But he thought he might regret killing Laura to get it. His thoughts were so jumbled up that sometimes he didn't even know if he had killed her.

He must have though, he was the alpha. He didn't think the power would have gone to him if he hadn't killed her. It hadn't gone to him when Talia had died, it wouldn't go to him when he was even worse off mentally now than he had been _Before_.

Peter half remembered killing people that were responsible for the fire. It was easy for his nurse, who he suspected was even crazier than he was, to find out who the insurance inspector was and from there Peter just followed lead to lead. Leaving behind a trail of bodies caught Kate Argent's’ eye, which was what Peter had wanted. She had been the one to start the fire and he was going to kill her for it.

In the end it wouldn't matter if she was prepared for a fight. It wouldn't matter if she killed him as long as she died in the end too.

Thoughts like that probably weren't helping Peter's mental state.

He knew if he just made a beta or three it would help him. Pack bonds would sooth the alpha power, calm his mind, but he would have to deal with brand new werewolves on top of his revenge plans. Better to concentrate on one thing at a time.

If he survived he'd find some easily manipulated, desperate young adults and go from there.

He could throw them at Derek as a distraction. Maybe that would finally stop his nephew from skulking around trying to work up the courage to kill him.

Kate Argent did come to town, with several of her lackeys in tow, they spread out through the preserve, hunting for Peter's trail.

Peter picked the lackeys off one by one, trying to ignore how easy they were making it for him.

There was a trap being set, he was sure, but he couldn't resist taking out hunters when they were practically sitting ducks in front of him.

Finally, after hours there was only Kate and three of her men left.

He was expecting the wolfsbane bullets.

He expected the mountain ash circle.

He should have been expecting the god damn flame thrower but apparently he'd misjudged how

afraid of him she was.

He snarled at where she was hiding behind a mountain ash circle.

He couldn't get closer to her without risking being caught on fire, again, and she wouldn't be coming out of the circle unless she was sure he was dead.

But the four hunters were trapped in one place. A minor flaw in their plan that he was sure wouldn't usually matter.

But they were using a flamethrower. In the middle of a forest. If they weren’t careful they would set the whole place on fire a Peter would burn with them, just to watch them die the same way his family had.

He could feel the burn of all the places he'd been clipped by bullets but he pushed through it.

Compared to the fire these were barely scratches. He could stand a few more.

It took a long long time for the four of them to run out of ammunition. So long, that Peter was

panting and in actual pain by the time they only had the flame thrower as an option. Not that Peter actually believed they didn’t have any bullets left.

He laid down on the forest floor, struggling to get his breath back, watching her calculate her next move.

One of the hunters decided to risk coming out of the circle. Peter was on him in moments, tearing him apart with abandon.

There were more gunshots, a few stings of pain but than silence again.

Peter heard the soft drip drip of rain starting to fall.

He gave Kate a huge bloody grin. If it rained hard enough her flamethrower might become useless.

"A little rain isn't going to help you if you die from the wolfsbane in your system." Kate taunted.

Peter ignored her and rolled the dead hunter over.

With slightly clumsy fingers he pulled out the clip on the gun. He glanced up at Kate smugly as he saw the foolish hunter had indeed tried to conserve the last of his ammunition.

Peter rifled through the pockets in the hunter's tactical vest until he found a lighter. He popped open the bullets and shook them out onto the hunters stomach to set the gunpowder on fire with the lighter.

Carefully and methodically he ground the ash into the wounds that hadn't healed, pulling bullet fragments out as he went along.

The two remain hunters were starting to get nervous but Kate didn't even blink. Not even when the rain started to fall hard enough to penetrate the thick tree canopies.

Peter rolled his head back to look up at the black sky, feeling the raindrops roll through the patchy fur on his face. The cool water helped soothe a bit of the few sparks of pain that were left.

He settled down next to the dead hunter, content to wait, either for the rain to start to fall hard enough to wash away the mountain ash or for Kate and her two little followers to get impatient enough to come out of the circle themselves.

The other two hunters were starting to get agitated, pacing around the circle and glancing up at the sky often enough to tell Peter they were worried about the rain.

Kate looked just as calm and confident as she had the entire time they'd been having their little face-off.

Peter knew the two hunters had to be well trained to be tasked with watching Kate's back, so they would be smart enough to have a few shots left, just like their dead companion. No doubt the temptation to use them on Peter with him sitting there in plain sight had to be agonizing. Peter wasn't particularly worried about them.

It was Kate and her weapon that he was more interested in. What sort of low-budget action movie did Kate think she was in to not only have but _use_ a flamethrower?

Peter knew she had it because she'd guessed who was going around killing her accomplices, that she'd brought it hoping that Peter would be too afraid of the fire to risk attacking her.

But Peter wasn't afraid of fire. He didn't like it, and he certainly didn't want to be burned again but if she really didn't want Peter to kill her she would have to kill him first, not try to frighten him.

"So what's the plan here, Hale?" Kate asked, trying to sound like she actually wanted an answer.

Peter sighed deeply in annoyance.

He couldn't exactly talk in his sifted form and he wasn't about to waste energy changing himself back just to satisfy her curiously. Even if Peter was a little tempted to give her a piece of his mind over her leaving surviving members of a pack she'd tried to destroy.

Peter wasn't sure if she'd done it because she was being lazy or because she'd thought he'd never heal.

He didn't think it actually mattered but if the rain hadn’t started to fall harder he might have turned back just to taunt her.

Peter saw the moment Kate realized the mountain ash circle was broken. She raised her ridiculously over the top weapon, aimed it at Peter, but he was already moving behind her to grab at one of the other hunters.

Sharp, intense pain hit him and he looked down to see the hunter had stabbed him right in the gut.

The hunter used Peter's moment of pain to slip away from him and hide behind Kate.

Peter pulled the knife out and glared at it. He could tell by the burning sensation that it had been coated with wolfsbane. That wasn't good. He didn't have anything to make an antidote.

Peter sighed. He had a time limit now.

He had two choices. He could either just attack all three of them outright, use the two as human shields against Kate and risk getting stabbed again or he could tire them out and try to separate them.

Running around would pump the wolfsbane through his system faster but it would be easier to take them out one on one, like he had with the other hunters already.

Plus, suddenly turning around and running might give them a false sense of relief, they might think Peter had gone off to lick his wounds.

Peter took off, slower than he had to even with the knife would. The more they underestimated him the easier it would be to pick them off.

He could hear them cursing and running after him as he wove through the trees, easily dodging in and out of their sight, waiting for the perfect opportunity to loop around them and catch whoever was the first to fall behind.

But first he had to try and tire them out.

He dodged around trees, keeping one step in front of them until even Peter was starting to feel the strain.

He glanced over his shoulder to see if they were showing any sign of slowing down, and felt himself stumble over a sudden decline in the forest floor.

He broke through the tree line and right onto a two lane road.

Peter realized the wolfsbane was really affecting him when he stared at an oncoming car like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.

Surviving the fire only to end up roadkill might be something he deserved if he'd killed Laura but he'd prefer for it to happen after he'd already killed Kate Argent.

***

It was pouring down rain and probably later in the night than Stiles should have been out. But it wasn't as if his dad was going to complain overly much. They had a very strict Don't Ask Don't Tell policy when it came to Stiles' late night activities.

In fact, they never talked about it at all, outside of his dad's weekly "So everything good with, ah, you?"

To which Stiles always replied "The good citizens of Beacon Hills will continue to live for another day."

For some reason his dad never thought that was particularly funny.

Out of the corner of his eye Stiles saw a sort of flash, the kind thing that usually happened if a flashlight was passed over a cat. It had barely even registered in his brain when a large black blur was streaking across the road, right in front of Stiles' jeep.

Stiles slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel away from where the blur had been running, being careful not to jerk the wheel so he didn't accidentally hydroplane into the trees on either side of the road.

As much as Stiles hated to admit it, his jeep had seen better days. And while he kept up with the maintenance on it, it couldn't stop on a dime.

There was the awful sound of crunching metal and the jeep stuttered ominously as the momentum of the impact caused it to slid into the brush and dirt that separated the highway and tree line.

Stiles could feel himself shaking. The worst accident he had ever been in was when he had been first learning how to backup and had run right into a tree. The jeep hadn't gotten so much as a scratch then.

Taking a few slow deep breaths to try and calm down a bit he put the jeep in park and carefully opened his door.

He looked around and there, lying just off center of the road was what had to be a bear.

He had seen bears in zoos before and he and his mom had once had a close and messy encounter with a black bear when they had been camping up in the redwoods, but he was pretty sure he'd never heard of bears around Beacon Hills. The biggest predator around was, well, him.

Standing there in the rain, staring at a bear that was either dead or dying Stiles could practically hear his mother in his head gleefully yelling _"Waste not, want not!"_

He pointedly ignored the voice and walked around to the front of the jeep to check the damage.

The driver's side headlight was completely shattered and part of the front bumper was crushed. He pulled out his phone to shine it's flashlight up under the wheel well to make sure he would be able to drive the four miles he had left to get home. After all, his dad might actually ask some questions if Stiles had to call a tow truck at two in the morning.

Stiles sighed deeply in relief at the sight of an only mildly damaged wheel well. He'd definitely be able to drive home, even if it would have to be slowly.

Satisfied that his jeep would live for another day, if worse for wear and in desperate need of a mechanic, he turned back towards the bear.

Again he could hear his mother making fun of him for deciding the jeep was the most pressing matter, her voice taking on an exaggerated British accent " _You really need to sort out your priorities._ "

Stiles rolled his eyes and muttered out loud "You're only saying that because you would have eaten half the bear by now."

His mother's appetite had been literally legendary. Stiles was just grateful that of all the things he'd inherited from her he'd only gotten her blood lust and not her insatiable hunger.

Stiles knelt down next to the bear, not caring at all about the wet asphalt. He was going to b soaked through with both water and blood by the time he got the bear into the back of the jeep.

He reached out, ignoring the proverb about not poking bears and gave it a good hard poke to what he was pretty sure was the shoulder area.

Nothing happened.

He leaned closer.

Taking a good strong sniff his mouth started to water even though he'd eaten less than an hour before.

He leaned even closer and he realized that the scent of the creature in front of him wasn't the same as the last time he had smelled bear blood.

He gave the shoulder a good hard shove and the creature lolled over onto its back.

"Holy shit." Stiles said in amazement.

He hadn't hit a bear.

He'd hit a goddamn werewolf.

He felt his usually slow heartbeat quicken in excitement as he leaned closer, breathing in the strange, new scent. He'd never met a werewolf before. He knew a pack had lived in Beacon Hills at the same time his mom had, but she had made sure he never met any of them, convinced that they would kill her and Stiles on sight.

The pack had been killed right around the same time his mom had been having her...issues...and no new pack had taken their place. Unfortunately that had only added to her paranoia.

He leaned even closer, hovering inches away from the werewolf's dog-like snout. He breathed in the strange, woody scent of the creature and hummed, pleased with the wild feeling the scent seemed to fill him with.

So close to the creature he could feel the heat coming off of its body and could hear the slow deep pounding of its heart.

Stiles realized he was actually glad he hadn't managed to kill the werewolf. It was always more exciting when his prey was alive.

He reached out and slid his finger through the blood from the large wound in the creature's side. Slowly he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked the blood from his finger.

He didn't even try to stop himself from moaning at the delicious taste.

His mother had tried to explain to him that at some point he might feel arousal at the taste of blood but he'd always loudly protested and distracted her every time she brought it up. This was the first time it had ever happened and he made the split second decision to keep the source of this new interesting sensation.

The only problem was that this was obviously a powerful werewolf, if its bear-like size was to be believed. If it decided that it didn't want to let Stiles have some of its blood, then Stiles probable wouldn't be able to make it.

Just because Stiles could overpower a human didn't mean he could control a creature twice his size.

He really only had two options if he wanted to keep it alive: Either keep it locked up or turn it into a thrall.

Both had drawbacks.

If he locked the creature up in the barn, the place his mother had always kept her 'chattel', his dad would instantly jump to the conclusion that Stiles was going in the same direction as his mom had. And considering how badly everything had ended between her and his dad Stiles would really rather avoid his dad ever even thinking about Stiles' dietary requirements.

Thrall was really the only way to go. Stiles would easily be able to keep the creature docile with just a few drops of Stiles' blood. The only issue was that Stiles didn't actually know if he could make a werewolf a thrall.

The pull of his blood didn't even work on humans who knew what he was so there was every possibility that a werewolf wouldn't be swayed by the temptation his blood usually had.

And if Stiles wasn't able to successfully ensnare the werewolf it would without a doubt kill him.

The draw of the most delicious tasting blood he’d ever had made the possibility of death worth it.

He slid the pad of his index finger against the sharp tip of one of his canine teeth and carefully opened the creatures' huge jaws with his free hand.

He dripped several drops of his blood onto the creature’s tongue before the cut healed. He frowned in thought before deciding that because the creature wasn't human he probably wouldn't be able to turn it so he repeated the process of cutting his finger and dripped even more blood into its mouth.

Satisfied that he'd done what he could he settled more fully next to the creature. He leaned down against its chest and gave the large gash that was still sluggishly bleeding a few tender licks.

He could feel the slow rise and fall of the creature's breaths and the heat coming off of its body was almost scorching to Stiles' rain-soaked skin. He thought he might be able to get used to having a living, heat radiating body pillow.

Although everything would probably feel even better if they weren't lying in the middle of the road in the dead of night. They'd been there long enough that Stiles was actually starting to get a little worried a car was going to come and hit them.

That certainly seemed like the kind of luck Stiles would have. And if the way they had met was any indication the werewolf didn't seem any better off.

Just when Stiles had finally decided they'd spend enough time testing fate the creature shifted underneath him.

It growled, low, deep, and so menacing Stiles actually got goosebumps.

Stiles ignored every warning thought he had, courtesy of his mother constantly reminding him that if he always acted without thinking, something bigger and badder than he was would eat him, and gently stroked his hand down the creature's long, large arm. He sat up a bit and used his other hand to pet through the thick coarse hair on the creature's chest.

The fact that the werewolf was still growling but not trying to either kill Stiles or run off into the night seemed like a good sign that the thrall was working.

Of course as soon as he'd had that thought the creature was up, standing in front of Stiles snarling loudly.

Stiles sighed deeply and went over his options from where he'd ended up lying on the pavement.

He might just have to...let the creature go.

He really didn't want to let his new favorite dish just walk out of his life but he also found that strangely enough he didn't really want to kill the werewolf either.

This was certainly a new feeling. After all, he'd been taught to never let a meal get away.

But the werewolf was just so interesting. The only other not-human he had ever gotten to spend time with was his mom so he was a little starved for attention.

Maybe he would be able to bribe the werewolf back with a large quantity of raw meat...

Suddenly the creature roared and Stiles heard what was definitely a shot gun going off.

Great, they'd managed to attract the attention of someone out hunting.

Stiles frowned in thought as he tried to remember which side of the highway the Beacon Hill's Preserve was on.

He heard a strange sort of wet crunching sound and raised his head to see the silhouette of his werewolf holding what looked like the top half of a body in one hand and in the other dangling another body by the head.

It was quite the sight to behold and Stiles sat up fully to appreciate it.

There was another wet ripping sound and the second body fell from the werewolf's hand, sans it's head.

Fascinating.

Stiles heard a loud crunch and had no doubt that the head the creature had been holding had just been crushed.

It shot its now free hand out and snatched another person seemingly out of nowhere. Stiles watched in a sort of breathless fascination as the creature pulled it's newest victim up, high enough their legs were dangling above the ground, and in one smooth motion opened its jaws and completely bit through what looked like both neck and upper body.

The creature stood holding two very dead bodies and breathing deeply, breath misting out in the still falling rain.

Stiles was suitably impressed. He had already known that the werewolf wasn't the sort of being he should be messing with but after such an amazing display of raw blood lust Stiles' desire to keep the creature only intensified.

Although now Stiles was completely certain that he wouldn't be able to actually turn the creature into a thrall after all.

Instead Stiles would just have to make himself more valuable to the werewolf alive as opposed to dead.

He supposed flattery was as good a place to start as anywhere.

Pointedly ignoring his mother's panicked screeching he gave the werewolf a loud round of applause.

It turned slowly, deliberately, towards Stiles and for a moment he actually wondered if it had been a good idea to let the creature live after all, but he was almost instantly distracted by the way it raised the body that had a head hanging on by a thread, and took a large deliberate bite out of it's shoulder.

Stiles snorted in amusement. "Hey, I already ate tonight. You have at it. After all, you earned it buddy."

The werewolf chewed for a while in a way Stiles thought seemed considering.

Finally after a few minutes and another few bites, this time from the other body, it dropped both handfuls and curled forward so that it was walking on all four of its limbs.

Stiles stared intently as the creature prowled across the road to loom over where Stiles was still sitting on the wet pavement.

He tipped his head back to fully meet the werewolf's glowing red eyes. Slowly, telegraphing his moments just in case it decided that Stiles would make a nice after dinner snack, he reached up and rubbed the sleeve of his hoodie through the blood coating the creature's mouth.

After a few moments of the two of them staring at each other and Stiles' fruitlessly trying to clean up some of the mess that had been made in the creature's fur, he realized that one side of it's face felt different than the other. Like the fur was patchy and mottled in places. Stiles had no idea what that meant. He was pretty sure it wasn't the full moon but the werewolf was very obviously not human shaped even what Stiles thought was a given was wrong.

Deciding that was a question for when Stiles could actually see the creature in some proper light, he slid his hand down to the creature's chest and gently tried to push it a step back so he could stand up without them bonking heads, which was definitely something that would happen to him.

Interestingly enough the werewolf actually did step back and Stiles hopped awkwardly to his feet.

"So what's the plan here?" he asked, because he had some ideas but it was entirely possible the creature wouldn't be willing to just go along with him, even if it did seem interested in Stiles.

The werewolf just continued to stare unblinkingly at him and Stiles felt his eyes start to water in sympathy.

"Okay..." he said, drawing the word out and swaying from side to side slightly to see if the creature's eyes followed his movements. It did. He found that slightly disconcerting. "So my plan is to go home, take a shower, and then take the world's longest nap."

The creature just continued to stare.

"If I told you I had a place you could sleep out of the rain would you be interested?" Stiles asked, deciding it was worth a shot to try and casually get the creature to do what Stiles wanted.

The creature let out a loud unimpressed sounding snort before turning and walking over to the jeep. With one large disgustingly human like hand it pulled open the passenger side door and crawled into the jeep.

"Well that was easy!" Stiles said happily, and then promptly smacked himself in the face for jinxing it.

No doubt that now everything would go wrong, and it would probably involve his dad in one way or another. After all, his dad had been the one who always told him not to bring stray animals home.

Of course, before they could leave they had to clean up the dead bodies before his dad found them, that would be a sure-fire way to get Stiles and the creature both in trouble.

***

The drive home took more than twice as long because the werewolf kept sticking it's very large wet nose against Stiles' cheek.

He had the strangest feeling it was being done on purpose but refused on principle to react more than ducking his head out of the way.

Finally after what felt like forever, Stiles pulled the jeep in front of the barn.

He slipped out of the car and waited for the werewolf to jump out after him before closing the door and sighing deeply, grateful that at least the rain had let up.

He hadn't been inside the barn in almost five years. And that last time had not been very… pleasant.

Of course now that he actually had a reason to use the barn again he was glad that he'd taken the time to clean it out after his mother’s _accident_.

There wasn't going to be any unwelcome surprises hanging around except for probably bats, which all things considered, Stiles had a little bit of a soft spot for.

He unlocked the smaller side door, because the larger front doors were still chained shut and he didn't want to have to deal with chains in the dark after three in the morning.

Stiles got out of the doorway and flipped the over head lights on to watch the werewolf squeeze itself into the room.

He huffed in amusement before trying to make himself look innocent when the creature loomed over him.

He waved his arm in front of himself to show the werewolf it should go first out of the tack room and into the main hallway of the barn.

"You go ahead and and have a look around, I have to go take care of the bodies." he paused, shooting the werewolf an amused look. "Although I should probably make you do it, you were the one that made the mess to begin with."

The creature looked unimpressed but it had helped Stiles pick up the bodies and bundle them into the tarp Stiles kept in the back of the jeep for just such occasions so Stiles was willing to give it a pass.

He sighed and waved the creature away before turning to go back outside to the jeep.

He pulled the heavy and bloody tarp out and then across the driveway to the fenced in garden that sat parallel to the barn.

The garden was overgrown and just as neglected as the barn had been. Stiles and his dad both avoid the garden, which was easy enough to do. A normal garden would have grown out of control but the fence around it kept the plants from spreading, not because the fence was enough to keep them in but because of the runes carved into the wood of the fence posts.

The garden had been his mother's pride and joy. It was full to bursting with poisonous and odd plants. Stiles would never eat anything in it, not because of the questionable lethality of the plants in it but because of what his mom had used as fertilizer. She might have been cursed to hunger after flesh as well as blood but she still had to do _something_ with the leftovers.

Stiles unrolled the tarp onto the compost pile, or where he thought the compost pile would be.

The plants shivered and wiggled under the drops of blood and viscera, leaves and vines moving to curl around the bodies and dismembered parts.

Satisfied that his dad wouldn't be finding any evidence, he turned to walk out of the garden but paused when he saw the werewolf standing next to the gate, leaning it's huge head close to the wooden posts, probably inspecting the runes.

It raised one of it's creepy hands like it was going to touch the wood and Stiles and his mom yelped in unison.

"Don't touch it!" Stiles yelled, rushing forward to grab the creature's hand.

It went still and stared at Stiles.

"Sorry..." Stiles muttered awkwardly, trying to remind himself that he didn't actually want to piss the creature off and grabbing at it was probably a bad idea.

He bent down to pick up the tarp he'd dropped and came face to face with Wily. The little coyote

froze, front paw raised to no doubt going flying past Stiles into the garden.

"Don't even think about it." he growled at her.

She slowly walked backwards out the gate.

Stiles quickly pulled himself and the tarp out of the garden and pulled the gate shut. He'd forgotten the runes to keep animals out didn't work if the gate was open and the little trouble maker had tried to take advantage.

The werewolf was staring down at Wily, looking mildly baffled. Wily didn't even seem to notice it. She'd been around so many different kinds of creatures one more probably wasn't very exciting.

He looked from Wily to the werewolf and back, mildly worried. As scrappy was the coyote was, the sheer size difference was ridiculous and the creature would be able to eat her in one bite.

Wily was the only one of his mom's little pets left and as indifferent as she seemed about Stiles _he_ liked her and her plucky attitude.

Wily's ears suddenly went crazy and she took off into the woods, no doubt going after a rabbit or equally small, tasty, critter.

"You won't eat her if she comes back will you?" he asked the werewolf.

The werewolf gave a sort of awkward looking shrug. That was good enough for Stiles. It was out of his control now. Wily would either sneak into the barn and annoy the werewolf or she wouldn't.

Stiles used the spigot on the side of the barn to wash left over blood off of the tarp before leading the werewolf back into the barn, folding the dripping tarp before dropping it inside the door.

Stiles led the creature through the main hall of the barn to the back, where the steps to the hayloft started. It was the only part of the barn that didn't have a lock on it and Stiles knew instinctively that the creature would never go into any of the stalls. Not only because of the locks, there were only two stalls that would even fit the werewolf and Stiles was sure they would smell like death.

Not that the whole barn didn't smell that way but at least the hayloft had double doors that could be used as a large window. Or the werewolf could just jump through the doors down to the ground, werewolves obviously had amazingly quick healing.

Even though the whole loft was empty it still smelled slightly musty so Stiles walked over to the far wall to open up the doors and let some fresh air in.

"Sorry it's so empty in here, but no one wants to deal with rotting hay. Or heated hay." Stiles said with a shudder.

The werewolf gave a sort of grumbly sound Stiles was going to assume meant "I've slept in worse places" and Stiles smiled brightly.

"I'll just go grab some extra blankets and stuff while you make yourself at home." Stiles said, exhaustion starting to set in again now that he was almost ready to go to bed.

Stiles hurried out of the barn and into the house, sending an annoyed glance at the key rack were his father's keys were suspiciously absent.

He double checked his phone even though he was sure his dad hadn't called to ask him why he wasn't home. No missed calls or texts. Which meant his dad was working a double shift. Again.

He shuffled into his room and pulled off his damp and slightly bloody clothes before pulling on his fluffy Star Wars themed pajama pants and a blue sweater with a starfleet insignia on it.

Stiles eyed his own bed thoughtfully for a few moments before deciding he was too tired to make safe and rational choices. He grabbed an IKEA tote bag and stuffed blankets and his pillows into it.

He frowned in thought as he tried to remember where he’d left the foam mattresses he and Scott used to use to sleep in the hayloft, before Scott had been forbidden to come over for his own protection.

He found the foam mattresses in huge storage bags in the garage and dragged everything out to the barn and up to the loft.

The werewolf watched attentively as Stiles unloaded everything.

"Hope you don't mind having company!" Stiles said bright, fully prepared to ignore any protests the werewolf made, up to and including throwing Stiles out the open doors/window. If it did that Stiles would just come back and have a very large late-night snack.

Stiles laid out the mattresses pressed side to side and spread the blankets out over both before pointedly climbing under them on one mattress and turning them back so the werewolf could lay down on the other.

The creature shuffled closer, leaning over him, huge and almost threatening.

They stared at each other for a long minute before finally the creature settled on the mattress, on it's side so it could keep staring at Stiles.

"You'd better not do that all night, it's creepy." Stiles grumbled without heat. This was the perfect outcome and he didn't want the creature running off on him.

The werewolf huffed in his face pointedly and Stiles pulled the blankets over his head to hide his amusement.

***

Peter woke up feeling groggy, with the taste of blood in his mouth.

It wasn’t the first time Peter's woken up with blood in his mouth, but this time the blood doesn't taste like deer or rabbit. It tasted...odd. Like nothing he'd ever eaten before.

For some reason it was making him hungry.

It felt like the same hunger from the night before and he suddenly remembered he'd eaten not one but two hunter.

He'd never done that before, he'd never even thought about eating humans before.

But he didn't feel bad about it. He didn't feel the need to question his own humanity or wonder if he was losing himself to his nature.

He hadn't eaten Kate Argent and that showed he still had control over some of his standards.

Although he suddenly remembered he'd left about a half dozen bodies lying around the woods.

He would have to go out and take care of that before someone saw one and got concerned.

Next to him he felt the incredibly strange little creature that had hit him with a car, watched him eat two people, crush the head of a third, and had clapped like Peter had given him a private performance.

The strange little creature that had taken him home and was now cuddled up to him like Peter was a giant teddy bear and not a murderous monster.

Peter was sure the boy wasn't human so he wasn't that surprised that he'd fallen right to sleep next to Peter, although Peter had no idea what he could be.

He could feel magic inside the barn they had slept in, and even stronger magic around what Peter thought might be a garden. Both places smelled like death and old decay.

Peter could tell that a large amount of creatures had died in the barn.

But now it was empty except for a coyote Peter didn't think was really a coyote.

He could feel her too. He knew she was sitting by the stairs, watching Peter and the boy sleep.

He lifted his head to look at her and she snapped her jaws at him. He huffed softly and snapped back at her.

She didn't even blink, even though she had to be able to tell Peter could eat her in a moment.

He could admit to himself that he was a little impressed with her tenacity.

The boy grumbled and started to stretch out, one of his hands managed to smack Peter in the cheek.

"Shit, sorry." he said sleepily.

Peter huffed at him too and snapped his jaws slightly in warning. Not that it had hurt at all, Peter was just hungry and he wanted the boy to know if he didn't find Peter some food soon he'd end up on the menu.

The boy pouted but Peter didn't even blink.

He sighed deeply and rolled away from Peter and out of their makeshift bed.

He paused a moment at the sight of the coyote but walked past her with a soft pat on her head.

The coyote sent Peter a self-satisfied look before following the boy down the stairs.

Peter refused to be out done by a creature barely one tenth his size and raced after them.

***

The boy, who had started to babble the moment he'd gotten his first sip of coffee, introduced himself as Stiles and the coyote as Wily.

"You know, like the cartoon. Hey don't give me that look I was like twelve when mom brought her home, what do you expect me to have named her? Fluffy?"

After Peter had eaten a ridiculous amount of breakfast meat and felt more balanced Stiles turned to look at him in interest.

"So, do you always look so...creature like?" he asked.

Peter stared him down while he thought about his options.

Changing form used up a lot of his energy and Peter didn't want to upset his healing.

But he actually felt good. Maybe the best he'd felt in years.

All the little bullet grazes he'd gotten the night before were completely gone and the knife would that should have killed him had healed with only a faint scar Peter could barely feel through his pelt.

He was sure Stiles had done something to him, at some point, although Peter had no idea what he could have done to heal a wolfsbane wound without Peter noticing.

Kate was dead and Pete's health was fine so he didn't see why he shouldn't change shape.

He stood up from where he'd been sitting on the floor in front of Stiles' kitchen table and let the wolf skin slip away from him.

He heard Stiles' breath catch and caught the distinctive scent of _interest_.

That hadn't been what Peter had been expecting. He could still feel the pull of his scars along his body but the ache that he usually felt while wearing his human skin was gone.

He looked up at Stiles and caught his eye easily.

"Wow..." Stiles breathed out before physically shaking himself. "I know I should have been expecting you to be naked but I was not prepared."

Peter couldn't help but smirk at him.

Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly and jumped to his feet with a blush on his face.

"Be right back, don't go anywhere!" he yelled as he ran out of the room.

Peter and Wily shared an amused glance.

Peter looked around the kitchen as he waited, taking in room. There were drying plants hanging from a pot rack on the ceiling and runes carved into the doorways and window frames.

Someone who either had magic or knew about magic lived in this house.

Peter didn't think it was Stiles, the energy from the runes didn't feel like him but Peter could still smell the _other_ -ness in Stiles' scent.

Stiles came stumbling back into the kitchen with an armful of clothing and Peter turned to look at him.

Weak sunlight came in through the kitchen window and caught in Stiles' eyes for a moment.

And Peter knew what he was by that deep dark red shine.

He left himself relax and take the clothes with a thank you instead of killing Stiles on the spot.

Usually the reason vampires and werewolves didn't get along was because of their different scents. Vampires smelled like decay and werewolves smelled like canines.

Or at least that's what Peter had heard. He'd never actually met a vampire before.

Just before the fire had happened he'd heard rumors that there was one in Beacon Hills but he'd never gotten the chance to go looking.

He pulled on the clothes, just a t-shirt and sweatpants that smelled like Stiles, and thought about why he didn't think Stiles' sent was unpleasant.

The taste of blood in his mouth might have something to do with it.

He'd heard that vampires could make people become addicted to the taste of their blood, that if they gave someone enough they could control them.

Peter wasn't sure if that was true.

He didn't feel an overwhelming need to drink Stiles' blood.

Although he did think that if Stiles' offered Peter probably wouldn't turn him down.

That was an odd thought but after what had happened the night before Peter had the sinking suspicion a fundamental change had happened in him.

So long as Peter didn't go around eating random towns folks he decided that the change didn't actually matter that much.

His old life was over, he might as well start making his new one interesting. And if that meant hanging around a vampire and occasionally eating sentient creatures, well, Peter knew there were worse things in the world.

He grinned toothily at Stiles and said, "It's nice to meet you Stiles, I'm Peter."

Stiles' slow and steady heartbeat skipped and Peter just smiled wider.

***

Peter might be a little bored.

He and Wily had been chasing each other through the forest and fighting over rabbits for hours but now they were back at the barn and Wily was sound asleep next to him in the hayloft.

Peter had been drifting in and out of sleep next to her but he had suddenly realized he'd gotten so used to having Stiles sleeping next to him that when Stiles wasn't there Peter couldn't sleep.

This strange codependency was making Peter mildy grumpy.

The combination of boredom and grumpiness made him want to eat something that would put up more of a fight than a bunny.

The sound of a car coming up the driveway made him sit up in interest.

The car didn't sound like the police cruiser Stiles' father drove so Peter went over to peak out the double door/windows he and Stiles always kept open.

He looked out, down the driveway, carefully because he was still wearing his wolf skin, watching for the car he could hear coming.

It drove past the barn and parked in front of the house and Peter watched a gangly looking teen with floppy hair get out and go up to the front door. The teen knocked and Peter heard him yell Stiles' name.

Peter pouted a little at the thought that this wasn't some random passerby but maybe a friend of Stiles.

In the two weeks Peter had been staying in the barn with Stiles he'd only seen glimpses of Stiles' father and Stiles certainly hadn't mentioned any friends to Peter.

And Peter was sure Stiles would have told him if he was expecting someone while Stiles was supposed to be at his only on-campus class.

The teen had given up on knocking and had turned to go back to his car when he seemed to see the open doors/window of the barn and come towards Peter.

Well, if he was just going to come into the barn Peter couldn't be held responsible for what happened to the teen.

He slipped down the stairs and hid in the deep shadows under them as he listened to the stranger walk into the barn, yelling for Stiles.

Peter felt a little odd, like he had when he'd killed Kate and her minions.

He hadn't felt like that since the night he meet Stiles. But now he felt _hungry_.

He licked his snout in anticipation of sinking his teeth into this trespasser.

He stalked out of the shadows into his pray's line of sight.

The teen went completely still at the sight of Peter.

Peter crept closer while his pray just stood there, paralyzed with fear.

Peter wanted a bit of a chase, even if he knew he could catch the teen in a moment if he ran, but just killing him in one bite wouldn't be any fun.

So Peter started to growl, low and threatening.

The sound seemed to wake his pray up because he suddenly spun around and took off out of the barn.

Peter grinned and took off after him.

He didn't get very far though.

Stiles had gotten home without Peter even noticing and he was far more interesting than some little snack.

Peter instantly changed course and threw himself onto Stiles, catching him and rolling them both through the yard in front of the house.

He heard Stiles' breath stutter and felt him shiver against Peter as Peter fit his jaws around Stiles' shoulder and bit down gently.

He wasn't sure what had made him bite Stiles. He was just glad he hadn't accidently bitten him on the neck or worse, bitten his head literally off.

He opened his mouth and pulled back enough to reach one paw/hand out to claw open Stiles' shirt so Peter could lick at the little puncture wounds that were bleeding sluggishly.

He felt more than heard Stiles moan, and he definitely felt Stiles press up into him, his hands gripping handfuls of his pelt.

Peter had gotten so distracted by the _taste_ that he'd completely forgotten he'd been chasing someone until he felt a sharp sting of pain on his back.

His head shot up and he snarled deeply at the teen who was standing over him with a large tree branch in his hands and a determined look on his face.

"Get off of him!" he yelled, holding the branch up threateningly.

Peter started to pull himself up, ready to actually kill the teen, when Stiles started to laugh. He sounded a little hysterical so Peter looked down at him in concern.

His face was flushed lightly and his eyes were a little glassy. Peter thought it was a good look on him.

"Jesus Scott, he's not going to eat me." Stiles paused for a moment before blushing harder and adding, "Er, not in a bad way anyway."

Peter smirked as much as he could without lips.

Scott didn't look at all convinced that Peter wouldn't hurt him or Stiles. He continued to glare at Peter, as if he thought that would scare him away.

Stiles sighed deeply and started to shove lightly at Peter's chest, trying to get him to move out of the way.

Peter shifted slightly, just enough to let Stiles sit up, and he did, shifting around to press his side up against Peter's chest.

"So...Scott, this is Peter." Stiles said, waving his hand awkwardly at Peter. "Peter, this is Scott."

Peter flashed his teeth just because he could.

Scott flinched. "Stiles what the fuck?" he whispered loudly, wildly waving around the branch he was still holding.

Stiles shrugged. "I hit him with the jeep and took him home to nurse him back to health."

Peter found it very interesting that Stiles wasn't telling Scott the whole truth and that Scott didn't seem to know that Stiles was _other_.

"What is it?" Scott asked, lowering his branch slightly but still looking distrustful.

Stiles shrugged again. "I have no idea. Maybe he's like a mutated wolf. Or a descendant of Lon Chaney Jr."

Scott looked confused and mildly annoyed while Peter huffed in amusement.

Stiles tipped his head back to grin up at Peter before looking back at Scott again. "Look Scott, I'm sorry if Peter scared you. I promise if you come over again he won't try to eat you but my dad's going to be home soon and I really don't want to have to explain to him where Peter came from, you know how he is when I come home with stray animals-"

Scott cut off Stiles' babble. "I don't like this. I know your mom taught you a lot about animals but that's not a normal animal."

Stiles sighed. "You're not going to let this go are you?"

Scott got a mulish look on his face. "I can tell that thing's dangerous."

Stiles sighed even deeper and pulled himself to his feet. He sent Peter a pleading look and gently pet at his snout. "Could you hang out in the barn until Scott leaves?" he asked quietly.

Peter pulled himself up to his full height, making him tower over both Scott and Stiles. He gave Stiles' head a pat back before making his way back to the barn.

He wanted to know what they were going to talk about but he knew the runes in the house would stop him from being able to hear them. He felt oddly uncomfortable at the thought of

Stiles being alone with someone, even if Scott looked like a helpless puppy and Peter knew without a doubt Stiles could very easily take care of himself.

He let himself shift out of his wolf skin and into his human shape, pulling on some sweat pants Stiles had given him. He made a mental note that he should probably try to sort the human side of his life out. Not that there was much to sort out after spending six years in a coma.

It took almost an hour for Scott to leave and Stiles to come to the barn.

Peter watched him as he came up the stairs and over to where Peter was laying on their makeshift bed.

Stiles didn't hesitate to flop down next to him before wiggling so that he could curl into Peter's side and rest his head on Peter's chest. One hand almost automatically coming up to lightly tease the fading scars on Peter’s skin.

That was one of the most confusing part of Stiles, the way he would seek out physical contact and affection from Peter without restraint.

Before Peter's life had essentially ended he knew he wouldn't have accepted the way Stiles got into his space but now that he was an alpha without a pack he relished the easy way they could share space, Stiles' presence soothing a wild part of Peter that he knew could have drove him even more crazy than he already was.

"So who was that?" Peter asked, one hand moving almost without thought to run through Stiles' short hair while the other stroked up and down Stiles' back.

Stiles made a soft sort of content sound and cuddle closer. "I told you, that was Scott."

Peter hummed in agreement. "Yes, but that doesn't really answer my question."

Stiles huffed softly. "He's my best friend."

Peter found it telling that he'd known Stiles for two weeks and this was the first time Scott was being mentioned. Just as telling as how much time Stiles' father spent at work and how obvious it was Stiles was starved for affection.

"We used to go to school together, before mom pulled me out."

Peter had heard a little about Stiles' mother. He knew she was who Stiles had gotten his more violent tendencies from and that she'd died several years before.

Peter had also be able to deduce things about her. Like that she'd kept either humans or other beings in the barn, most likely to keep herself and Stiles fed. That she hadn't trusted anyone, including Stiles and his father.

And that Stiles talked to her sometimes, like she was in the room with him. Peter supposed that was enough to make his crazy and Stiles’ crazy a matched set.

"You still keep in touch though?" Peter asked, even if he thought he already knew the answer he wanted to hear Stiles' take on his and Scott's friendship.

"We text a lot but he doesn't usually come over, not after mom punched his mom." Stiles winced and smiled at the same time, no doubt that was an interesting story in and of itself.

"So what brought him over today?" Peter asked, trying to keep Stiles on track.

Stiles smirked and shook his head. "He got a girlfriend and wanted to tell me about her."

Peter rolled his eyes. Teenage boys were all the same.

"Did you manage to convince him to keep me to himself?" Peter asked in exasperation.

"Eh..." Stiles said, raising a hand to see saw it back and forth. "I might have had to persuade him with some mind alternating substances."

Peter didn't even try to stop himself from chuckling. "Did you hypnotize him too?"

Stiles tipped his head back to grin up at him. "I might have, a tiny little bit."

Peter leaned down to nuzzle Stiles' hair. "I'm not surprised."

Stiles had a ruthless streak a mile wide. It was certainly one of the things Peter liked most about him.

They were quite for a few minutes while Peter made contingency plans in case Scott decided to be difficult in the future and Stiles absently drew designs on Peter's chest with his fingertips.

"So..." Stiles started hesitantly, biting his lip and glancing up at Peter through his lashes. "I'm going to have to go out tonight to get some...groceries."

Peter raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure groceries were a euphemism, considering they’d gone actual grocery shopping the day before.

"Or..." Stiles breathed, looking up at Peter in interest.

And there it was. Peter had been waiting for Stiles to ask. Peter had suspected that Stiles had gotten a taste of Peter's blood when they had first meet. And Peter knew he had gotten a taste of Stiles. He could still taste him sometimes. Whether that was just his imagination or Stiles actually feeding Peter drops of his blood Peter had no idea.

He didn't even think it matter very much.

Peter had already decided he was going to be keeping Stiles as pack and if Stiles was willing to keep feeding Peter his blood than obviously he wanted to keep Peter around.

Peter had just been waiting for Stiles to bring it up first.

Usually Peter would have been dropping hints about how he knew Stiles was feeding him his blood and how Peter wanted Stiles in his pack but Peter thought that in this case actions would speak louder than words.

So Peter indulged Stiles. Not that Stiles actually asked for much. Either because he was afraid to push too hard or because he really didn't need much Peter wasn’t sure. But Peter suspected part of the reason for most of what Stiles did was because of his absent parents and physical isolation from others.

Well Peter wasn't going to complain when the unspoken deal between them was so mutually beneficial.

And now Stiles was finally asking Peter for what Peter was sure was his original reason for taking him home in the first place.

"Or?" Peter teased.

Stiles pouted at him but Peter wasn't going to go easy on him. If Stiles wanted what Peter thought he wanted he was going to have to ask for it.

Stiles pouted even harder when Peter didn't say anything else. "Well, I'm sure you've figured out what I am by now..."

Peter raised both eyebrows questioningly. "Have I?"

Stiles groaned and covered his face for a moment before he sighed deeply and said in a rush.

"I've got a lot of vampire-like tendencies and would like it very much if instead of going out I could have a little bit of your blood."

Peter thought 'vampire-like' was an interesting way to put what Stiles was. It implied that Stiles' human father was also his biological father and that Stiles' had not inherited all the traits his mother had had. It might also explain why he and Peter could stand to be so close to each other.

It also made Stiles that much more interesting. Peter had never met someone who was only part of a creature.

Stiles peaked out from behind his fingers at Peter questioningly.

Peter smirked at him. "All you have to ask sweetheart. I don't want you going hungry."

Stiles beamed at him in relief and Peter was suddenly disappointed Stiles had changed his shirt and covered up the little marks Peter was sure he's fangs had left behind.

"Can I...?" Stiles asked, still hesitant but obviously starting to gain his confidence back now that

Peter was being so accommodating. He reached out and curled his fingers around Peter's arm, pulling it from where Peter had wrapped it around Stiles at some point.

Peter let Stiles do what he wanted, fascinated by what was going to happen.

Stiles settled his head back down onto Peter's chest and rolled a little onto his back, holding

Peter's wrist over his mouth while Peter's free hand gently grabbed a handful of Stiles' hair in anticipation. Or just in case Stiles accidentally tried to take too much. Even if Peter doubted Stiles would it was always better to be safe than sorry. And Stiles hadn't told Peter to let go of him.

Peter watched intently as Stiles brought Peter's wrist to his mouth and sank his little pointed fangs into him. He felt a slight pinch before a soft sort of gentle satisfaction came over him.

It wasn't the feeling he'd been expecting to get. He'd heard rumors that when a vampire bit their pray the pray felt euphoric and at ease so that they wouldn't try to fight back. There were even more unfounded rumors about sexual gratification but Peter wouldn't need Stiles to bite him to be interested so that might have had something to do with what Peter was feeling.

Or maybe it had something to do with Peter's new alpha status. He knew alphas were hardwired to want to take care of their pack. Stiles was Peter's only pack member and Peter was literally giving Stiles his life blood to keep Stiles alive.

Or, of course, there was always the third option of Peter’s asexuality. Maybe Stiles’ _couldn’t_ affect him.

In the end Peter didn't think it really mattered why he was feeling what he was feeling so long as it was all positive emotions. And Stiles was very obviously feeling enough sexual gratification for the both of them.

Peter breathed in deeply, taking in Stiles' heavy scent. Peter had gotten hints of it before but never so strongly.

Stiles moaned deeply and Peter felt his tongue flick against the thin skin of wrist, felt Stiles start to _suck_ on his skin.

Maybe the sexual aspect had just been temporarily delayed...

Peter forced himself to loosen his grip on Stiles' hair, focusing on kneading Stiles’ scalp with his fingertips instead.

Stiles' breath hitched and he pulled his mouth away from Peter's wrist with a filthy wet sound.

Stiles didn't let go of Peter's arm so Peter held still to see what else he was going to do.

Stiles stared to lave at Peter's skin, little kitten licks with his tongue to clean up any leftover blood. Peter could see the bite marks that should have been there had already healed over.

"Did you even get enough?" Peter asked, surprised when his voice came out sounding more strained than he'd be expecting. Stiles might be having a bigger effect on him that he had at the start.

Stiles made a sort of strangled sound and rolled over to jam his mouth onto Peter's.

Surprised by the sudden kiss Peter held still as Stiles desperately nipped at Peter's bottom lip, dragging his sharp teeth into his skin and drawing more of Peter's blood into his mouth.

Peter huffed softly and caught Stiles' head between his hands, gently tilting his head to let their mouths lineup more comfortably.

Stiles sighed and relaxed against his chest, the desperation he's obviously been feeling fading away as Peter easily kissed him back.

Finally Stiles pulled back and Peter caught a glimpse of shiny pink lips smeared with blood before Stiles ducked his head down to Peter's neck.

Peter's hands slipped from Stiles' face, one going up to cup the back of his head and grip a handful of hair again and the other stroking down Stiles' back.

Peter halfheartedly tried to distract Stiles from his neck by sliding his hand even further down his back to squeeze Stiles' ass but that just seemed to just encourage him. Peter felt Stiles bite at his neck.

Peter sighed and kneaded Stiles' ass as he shifted to slide his thigh between Stiles' thighs, giving him something to grind against.

Stiles seemed to like that. He sucked hard on Peter's neck and ground his hips against Peter's thigh. He wiggled so hard and ungracefully that he got dangerously close to kneeing Peter in the dick. That would be a fast way to put a damper on what they were doing.

Peter let go of Stiles' head to hold onto his hip, to help Stiles find the best angle.

Stiles sighed in relief and let Peter rearrange him. A few more thrusts and Stiles was cumming with a soft deep groan.

Peter nuzzled into his hair and didn't even try to stop himself from kissing Stiles' sweaty temple.

"Feel better sweetheart?" he asked in amusement, hoping Stiles didn't think he was laughing at him.

Sites made incoherent mumbling and Peter chuckled.

"That's good." he murmured and kissed Stiles' temple again, taking in his happy and sated scent.

Stiles breathed long deep against him for a few minutes before pulling himself up a little to look at Peter.

He blinked, looking a little dazed, still flushed with the fresh blood, _Peter's blood_ , pumping through his veins.

"Um. Was that okay?" Stiles asked eloquently.

Peter smiled at him. "Of course it was."

Stiles bit at his lip nervously. "But ah...you didn't..."

Peter shrugged as much as he could with someone lying on his chest. "I assure you I am very satisfied."

Stiles still looked mildly worried so Peter distracted him by rolling them over, pinning Stiles against the mattress and kissing him soundly.

By the time they were done Stiles seemed to have forgotten about what they were talking about and instead got distracted by the drying cum in his pants.

Peter let him go clean himself up in the bathroom downstairs and thought about his life.

He’d thought a lot about what kind of pack he would have if he ever managed to become an alpha. One sort-of vampire hadn't been what he had thought of but he decided he felt content with his choice.

***

Stiles was mildly embarrassed that he'd cum in his pants without even giving Peter a helping hand. Not that Peter had asked for one.

Stiles knew he'd be more upset if Peter hadn't smelled genuinely pleased with himself. Stiles' sense of smell wasn't as strong as a werewolf's but he could sense things better than a human could.

Peter had smelled pleased and satisfied, not in the least bit unhappy with that had happened. That was enough to fend off most of Stiles' insecurities.

Stiles himself felt pretty pleased about what had happened. He'd barely had to ask Peter for his blood and now he felt warm and sated, stuffed full in a way that usually took two full humans, not a few big mouthfuls of blood.

Stiles figured it was the werewolf part. Stiles thought vampires who avoided werewolves were really missing out.

Stiles and Peter's mutually beneficial relationship was working out so much better than Stiles could have hoped for.

At lease on Stiles' end. He wasn't exactly sure what Peter was getting out of it other than free room and board and Stiles’ company.

Peter hadn't complained about anything that wasn't Wily bothering him when he was trying to sleep.

He also seemed to _like_ spending time with Stiles. Something that few people did voluntarily.

It made Stiles' heart skip every time he thought about it.

He couldn't even blame it on Peter being under his thrall. Stiles was too familiar with the glassy-eyed mindless obedience a real thrall had.

He thought it was actually a relief that Peter was acting under his own free will. It made their strange developing relationship even better.

Scott's unexpected visitor had but a bit of a damper on his good mood. He'd reminded Stiles that there were a few people whose world didn't revolve around him.

Not that Scott had any room to talk. When they had been younger Scott's obliviousness had been almost enduring but now that he was finally starting to enter adulthood Stiles found it draining.

While Stiles had appreciated Scott's attempt at saving him from Peter it was a painful reminder that Scott didn't know about Stiles' _otherness_.

Scott was Stiles' first and oldest friend and he didn't even know about a huge chunk of Stiles' life.

Peter knew. He could probably sense how much death Stiles had seen throughout his life.

He'd definitely noticed the times when Stiles wasn't fully in his right mind, when his mom tried to drag him off on ill-advised adventures in the woods.

But he just followed Stiles around like he wanted to see what kind of mess Stiles could make.

It soothed a part of himself that he hadn't realized ached.

The parts that hurt when his dad flinched away from him and Scott looked at him as if he was crazy.

Peter didn't look at Stiles like he was crazy.

Stiles had managed to catch and hold his attention without putting him under his thrall and it was _amazing_.

***

A deep terrifying growl woke Stiles up from a deep exhausted sleep.

He blinked blearily as Peter rolled to his feet, his wolf skin sliding over his body in a moment. Stiles was as impressed by that as he always was.

He thought that maybe Wily had stolen Peter's pillow again and Peter was going to chase her down and actually eat her like he was always threatening to do but than he heard heartbeats outside and smelled smoke.

Stiles pulled himself to his feet, baffled over what was happening. He watched Peter jump out of the open barn doors/window and started to follow him only to trip over Wily. She was shaking and whining softly so he bent over and scooped her up into his arms and walked over to see what Peter was doing.

He stared down at where Peter was pushing at what seemed like an invisible wall while the garden burned. There were over half a dozen people standing around watching Peter and the fire.

Stiles heard one of the people, it sounded like an old man, laugh and say "Aw, Peter don't wear yourself out just yet, we hadn't even gotten to the house yet!"

Stiles glared at the group and shifted his grip on Wily so he could lean out the window and flick his free hand like he was showing away a fly.

There would only be one reason Peter couldn't cross a line and that would be because it was made out of mountain ash. One of the first lessons his mom had ever taught him was how to break a mountain ash with his hands literally tied behind his back and his eyes blindfolded.

_"Hunter's are stupid and almost always use the same tricks, Stiles. You just have to be faster and smarter than them."_

He watched as Peter stumbled over the sudden loss of wall. Everyone was still for a moment before Peter roared and pounced on the nearest person.

Stiles sat down with Wily on his lap to watch the show.

Peter, of course, didn't play with his food. He rendered the hunters limb from limb and didn't stop until there were only two left. Stiles could tell by their body language and the way they were clinging to each other that they weren't fully trained yet.

They'd probably thought it would be easy to kill Peter. He was just one alpha without a pack. That's what they'd thought at least. They didn't know what Stiles was.

Not that Stiles had even done anything.

Peter stalked slowly towards the last two and Stiles heard one of them start to scream his name.

He sighed deeply and set Wily down with a pat.

He slipped out the window and down to the ground. He walked over to Peter and leaned against him to look Scott and the strange girl next to him over.

"Scott...." Stiles said, shaking his head in disappointment.

"I...I didn't... I thought it was just a dream!" Scott yelled, obviously terrified.

Peter rumbled questioningly and Stiles stroked his arm soothingly.

"Scott...You know I like you..."

In Stiles' mind's eye he saw his father standing over his mother with his shotgun, horror on his face. He had never been the same after that and Stiles knew the same thing would happen to him if he let Peter kill Scott.

"Scott you're going to have to come drink some more tea with me." Stiles said, trying to sound soothing as he grabbed Scott's arm and pulled him away from the girl.

"No, what about Allison?" Scott asked desperately. He tried to pull away from Stiles but he wasn't strong enough.

"Don't worry about her, she'll be fine." Stiles lied, glancing back to watch as the girl took off into the woods and Peter chased after her.

***

Once Scott had been drugged out of his mind and put to bed Stiles went back outside to help Peter clean up.

The runes around the garden had managed to keep the fire contained and Peter had been able to put it out with just the garden hose.

"It was a good thing they were trying to be dramatic assholes and didn't catch the barn on fire." Stiles said, pressing his chest against Peter's naked back.

Peter shook his head in disgust and gently ran his hands over Stiles' arms. "Gerard Argent was an over-confident fool."

Stiles frowned at the ruined garden and the pieces of dead bodies lying around the yard. "You know what I've been meaning to do for years?"

Peter hummed questioningly.

"Replant the garden with less murderous plants."

Peter was quiet for a moment before he started to laugh, loud and deep. "Yeah, let's replant the garden."

"We need to clean up before dad gets home and asks some awkward questions."

Peter chuckled and turned around to cup Stiles' face in his hands. He brushed a kiss against his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his mouth.

Stiles looked up at Peter, scared and beautiful in the moonlight, and felt genuinely happy.


End file.
